


Story of a Man

by mauralee88



Category: Twilight (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-25
Updated: 2012-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-08 12:50:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/443376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mauralee88/pseuds/mauralee88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of a lonely boy becoming a man, and finding love and happiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Story of a Man

Story of a Man

Disclaimer: All Twilight characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, Little, Brown, et. al. No profit was made and no copyright infringement is intended.

Warning: This story contains suicidal thoughts. If that bothers you, please don't read this. Also, if you're under 18 go away please, this is not for you.

Originally posted to ffn July 8, 2010

 

The frigid March wind whipped across the Pacific Ocean, battering the cliffs of coastal Washington. Clouds raced overhead, occasionally parting and allowing the glow of the full moon to appear. A lone figure sat atop a remote cliff, watching the light of the moon play across the ocean waves. He sat unmoving for hours, seemingly impervious to both the wind and the freezing temperature. This was the third night in a row that he sat atop the cliffs. They were his sanctuary, his refuge. They were where he escaped to question his life and ponder his future. One would think a boy of eighteen would not need such an escape. They would be wrong.

He found these cliffs when he was thirteen and hiking with some friends. He stopped to watch an eagle feed her hatchling and his friends didn't wait for him. He tried to catch up, but ended up falling and breaking his arm. His fall took place just yards from the cliff's edge. If he had been less fortunate, he would have plummeted to his death that day. Luckily, our young boy was fortunate, to a degree.

The pain in his arm was overwhelming and caused the young boy to lose consciousness for several hours. When he awoke, he was alone in the dark, on the cliff. His friends had not returned for him. He knew better than to wander the woods alone at night, so being an industrious boy, he erected a lean-to. Mind you, he did this one handed and in terrible pain. Had anyone else been around, they would never have known the terrible pain he was in, for he uttered not a word.

The next morning, the boy sat staring at the ocean and contemplated his options. He could continue to wait for help, or he could hike through the woods to the local Indian Reservation. He knew the forest he was in bordered the Reservation and that he should be able to find help if he stuck to a South-Easterly course. He waited another two hours before deciding help wasn't coming. He began walking around 9:30 AM. At 11:42, he walked out of the woods next to a small pond. There were three men with fishing poles at the pond, but to say they were actively fishing would have been a lie.

One of the men, a Native from the Reservation, noticed the boy. He motioned to another of the men, who slowly walked towards the boy. The man, the local sheriff as it turned out, recognized the boy. He approached the boy and after determining that he was in need of medical attention, loaded the boy in his truck and drove to the local hospital. During the short drive, the sheriff asked how the boy ended up in the woods with a broken arm. The boy explained the hiking trip and being separated and the fall. He told the sheriff about the lean-to and sleeping on the cliff and the hike out of the woods.

The sheriff was a good man, and a good judge of character. He knew the boy was telling the truth, but had a hard time reconciling that his daughter had been in the group the boy was with, and she hadn't told her father the boy was missing. No one had mentioned that he was missing. Not even the boy's parents.

The boys arm had begun to heal enough that the doctor had to re-break it. He ended up in a cast for the summer. His parents claimed they believed he was spending the night at a friends house and that's why they didn't report him missing. The boy never told them that, but it was easier to go along with them. He was, after all, only thirteen. His friends all claimed that they believed he was with them, but that he had gone home. They tried to make it sound like he hiked back into the woods alone, after dark. His best friend actually got mad at him, saying the boy was trying to get them all in trouble because he was stupid enough to get lost.

The boy never said anything. He kept his mouth shut and let them all criticize and berate him. It was easier that way.

After that incident, the boy began visiting the cliffs whenever he needed to get away from his parents or his friends. Most often, he would wait until a full moon. He liked watching the moon on the water, or at least knowing that above the clouds, the moon shone bright and full. It brought him a sense of peace.

That's not to say that every visit to the cliffs was calm and contemplative. When he was sixteen, he visited the cliffs with the intention of ending his life. He stood at the very edge, arms flung wide against the battering wind, screaming his pain and frustration. Tears poured down his face as great sobs seemed to be wrenched from the deepest part of his soul. He was never good enough, never smart enough, didn't dress well enough. He would never be enough for any of them. Their failures became his. He was always at fault. His friend drops a pass during the big game, his fault for throwing so poorly. Another friend fails a test, his fault for being such a poor study partner. He gets an A on a test, his parents rail that it should be an A+. He was never good enough.

He opened his eyes, wanting to see the rocks and the waves as he plummeted to his death. What he saw instead was an eagle, soaring just a few yards away from him. She watched the boy, curious and intrigued. It was not often she saw a person at these cliffs. She opened her beak and called to him, a heart wrenching skree that had him stepping back from the edge. He dropped to the ground, eyes wide and staring at the great bird in front of him. She called to him again, before flapping her wings and flying off in to the night.

That moment changed the boy's life. He vowed there and then that he would no longer allow the actions or words of others to hurt him. He stayed on the cliff until the pale light of dawn crept across the sky. He was determined he would survive this life; he would withdraw from those that caused him pain, but he would not give up. He made his way back to where he had left his bicycle only to find someone had left something tied to the handlebars. An eagle feather and a note.

'You are not alone.' 

Four simple words and a feather brought the boy to tears, but these were not tears of sorrow. No, the boy cried because someone cared. This was the first piece of his broken heart, put back in place. He felt comfort and companionship. All from four simple words.

It was during his visits to the cliffs that he met some of the boys from the Reservation. They would stop on occasion and sit with him, but they never intruded on his solitude. Most often, they could be found a mile or so down the coast, diving into the ocean from safer, lower cliffs than the ones the boy frequented. There was a sense of brotherhood, an underlying bond, between them. There was something about them, Jake, Paul and Jared, something that made him feel hope. Between their presence, and the four words on the note, the boy began to believe that maybe, just maybe, he would survive this life.

The boy grew in to a young man and continued to visit the cliffs. Always at night and always during the full moon. Some visits were somber. Those were usually after his 'friends' or family were particularly harsh. Other visits were peaceful, almost happy. Those visits usually occurred after the young man had seen or spoken to his paternal grandmother, Victoria. She was his favorite person, kind and wise and always concerned for his well being. She admitted to him that she did not like the rest of the family. Her son, she said, turned in to a self centered boor. His mother? More concerned with status and style than substance. And don't even ask her opinion of his sister. His grandmother refused to talk to the girl after she, his sister, said their grandmother was not fit to care for her own finances and should be put in a nursing home. Grandmother was sixty-one at the time and running her own company. Needless to say, his grandmother cut the selfish girl out of her will. She told the young man on his seventeenth birthday that he was her only beneficiary. That was the same day she gave him a check for $25,000.00. She told him to buy a car, one that would hold his most prized possessions and be comfortable on his cross country trip. He had looked at her askance and queried why she believed he was going to drive across the country. She just smiled and told him she knew he needed to leave, and she would do whatever was necessary to see it happen. Including providing him with access to his trust fund when he graduated High School. She explained that she didn't want him to have to depend on his parents for college tuition. He should be free to go to the school of his choice, not be forced to attend the school his father chose.

With her help, he had the means to leave and begin a new life. He was never more grateful to any one person in his life. He sat at the cliffs the next full moon and smiled the entire night. When he made his way back to the car his parents had purchased for him, the car he hated, he found another note.

'It's good to see you happy. My wish is that it happens more often. Know that I am still here, and that you are not alone.'

He scanned the surrounding area, hoping to catch a glimpse of the note's author, but there was no one in sight. He sighed, and called out, "Thank you. Thank you for being here, and for caring."

His next visit to the cliffs was not as pleasant. He and his 'friends' had been busy submitting college applications. They all assumed he would write their college essays for them, and harassed him for hours when he refused. They all also decided that as a group they were going to apply to the University of Florida, and that they were going to all live together off campus. Somehow, his sister had found out about the trust fund. She told their 'friends' that he had more than enough to pay for housing for all of them. They told him to make sure he bought a house with a pool. One 'friend' even demanded granite counters in the kitchen and a six car garage. He didn't argue. As a matter of fact, he didn't say a word. He never filled out an application to the University of Florida. He never even thought about it. He spent two nights at the cliffs that month. The night before the full moon, and the night of the full moon. He left a note on his car both nights, inviting his watcher to join him. The second morning there was a reply.

'I was there. Could you feel me? I will always be here for you, even if you never see me. You are not alone.' 

The note comforted and frustrated the young man. Had anyone asked, he would not have been able to explain why, but he had faith in his watcher. Of course, no one besides his watcher knew he made these visits to the cliffs. While he trusted his watcher, he also wished for face to face contact. He longed to sit and talk with this person, to get to know them as well as they seemed to know him. Yet once again, his watcher denied him that pleasure. He left a note of his own this time, tacked to a tree. In the note, he explained his desire to meet and why he believed it was important. He said he'd be back the next full moon and hoped to see his watcher on the cliff.

The next full moon came and the young man anxiously made his way to his cliffs. What he found astounded him. A fire pit, with a small fire already lit. A tent, set up near the fire pit. And a basket with food and drinks, including the makings for s'mores. He was touched at the show if kindness. But it didn't temper his disappointment that his watcher was not there as well. There was a note, another damn note. The young man loved these notes, yet......yet, they did not take the place of physical contact.

'I'm sorry, but it's too soon for us to meet face to face. Please, believe me when I tell you that I want to be there, sitting next to you. I want to talk to you, to hear the sound of your voice, to touch you and be touched by you. I know that someday we will be together. We will meet, please trust me. Just not yet. You need to be free of this place. Free of the negative influence of others. You need to discover who you are. You need to learn to laugh, and mean it. You need to learn to cry tears of joy. You need to learn to let your heart go, freely, and know that you will survive if it is returned broken and bruised. Do not doubt, I will be here waiting. You are not alone.'

The young man cried. He cried because he knew his watcher was right. He spoke, hoping his watcher was in the woods nearby. "Thank you, for the fire and the tent and the food. Thank you for your comfort and your caring. You do know, don't you, that you are not alone either." He spent the rest of the night quietly watching the moon on the water. It was a surprisingly clear night, and the moon seemed to take up the whole of the night sky.

Months passed, and every full moon the young man was at the cliffs. The young men from the Reservation continued to dive from the other cliffs, sometimes hiking up to sit with him for a while. Other times, simply waving their hands in greeting. He and his watcher occasionally exchanged notes, but more often than not, the young man would return to his car and find a feather, or a rock, some small token letting him know he was not alone.

Things began to change when the young man began receiving college acceptance letters, which brings us back to where we started. A cold March night and our young man sitting atop the cliffs. Two letters were shoved in the front right pocket of his jeans. One from the school his father chose, and one from the school he chose. His desire was to leave and never look back. To do what his grandmother believed he was destined to do and live his own life. He sat on the cliffs and allowed himself to acknowledge and embrace his fear. The fear that he would give up and let his father to rule his life. The fear that he would be stuck in a life that was not his own. But more, he admitted his greater fear was leaving and making his own way. He spent three nights on the cliffs. The first night was spent choosing his future. The second night was spent planning his escape. The final night was spent quietly celebrating his impending freedom. Another dawn broke, and he made his way to his car. There was a note waiting for him.

'You've chosen. Congratulations! I'm proud of you, and have every faith that you will amaze yourself when you get out in the real world. I will be here, waiting for you. You are not alone.'

The young man smiled, and yelled "Thank you!" to the trees.

The next three months passed in a blur. The young man told one person of his choice, his grandmother. She helped him find an apartment and arrange his new bank accounts. She also went with him when he finally bought his new car. His grandmother made him promise he would come 'home' to her for Christmas. His parents and sister could never be bothered to include his grandmother, so there was no fear that he would run in to them at her house. He was excited, but tempered his behavior lest his 'friends' catch on and punish him for being too happy. He spent four days dealing with their jealous reactions to his new car. His sister was the worst, claiming he should have bought her the new car instead of himself. She appeased herself by saying she had already picked out the car he would be buying her when he got access to their grandmother's money. The young man never said a word.

He spent his last night in the town he was born in sitting on the cliffs, watching the waves sparkle in the moonlight. His car was packed and waiting. He'd already said good-by to his grandmother, with the promise to call her every night. He had left a note on his car for his watcher. In it, he explained what he was doing. He didn't reveal where he was going, but he did include an email address. He told his watcher that he would be back for the full moon each June, and if possible, each December. He thanked his watcher for the comfort and support they had provided. He said he would miss their visits, even if they never saw each other. When he arrived at his car in the morning, there was a note and a gift. The gift was a dream catcher, hand made, with eagle feathers hanging off the side.

The note said, 'Good luck, and be well. I know that you will return a stronger person. I will be here, waiting. You are not alone, you are never alone.'

The young man grinned as he got in his car, and began the journey to his new life. He laughed as he crossed the state line, wondering how long it would take for his parents to realize he was gone. He spent a week driving across the county to his new home in Boston. His grandmother had planned his trip, ensuring that he stayed in reputable hotels each and every night. He may be on a journey of self discovery, she had said, but that didn't mean he couldn't or shouldn't be safe.

He was spending his second night in his new apartment when he received his first text message. Nine days. It had taken nine days for someone to bother to reach out to him. He looked at the message. It was from his sister. She didn't ask where he was or if he was okay. Rather, she sent a scathing message wanting to know why he didn't arrange payment for her new car. The next day, his 'best friend' called and left a voicemail screaming at him for screwing up their housing in Florida. The messages continued for four more days. None asked after his welfare, and all blamed him for one problem or another. He ignored them all. Unsurprising to him, none of the messages were from his parents. They never called.

His watcher emailed him the third day he was in Boston. They fell in to a routine, sending each other brief emails every Monday and Thursday. The first full moon, the young man received an email containing pictures from the cliffs. He saved one as the background on his laptop and stared at it for hours. In his next regular email, he asked his watcher if perhaps they could 'chat' during the full moon. Thus began their friendship, and in some respects, their courtship. It was during one of their chats that the young man told his watcher he was gay. He was shocked when his watcher responded, I know. I am too. The two never missed sending their Monday & Thursday emails, or their full moon chats.

He was very careful updating his Facebook page. He didn't want to reveal his location, but he did want people to know he was okay, if they cared. He posted pictures of the interior of his apartment, and noted that he was well and looking forward to school. He was surprised when four people responded to his post. High school classmates Angela Webber and Mike Newton both wished him well. Both stated they were happy to see that he had left his 'friends' behind, and hoped that he found happiness. The three ended up becoming very close friends over the next four years. They shared stories about classes, and dates, and making new friends. They were the second and third people he told about his sexual preferences. Both were accepting of his choice, congratulating him on his courage for openly living as a gay man.

The other two were Paul and Jake, two of the young men from the Reservation. They also became friends over the years. Both young men were attending a community college near the Reservation. The young man still felt that bond, that kinship, with Paul and Jake. He often wondered what his life would have been like had they been able to be closer friends growing up.

He made other friends. Some became close, while others drifted apart after only a few months. He dated, and fell in love with a classmate named Caius. Caius was a beautiful man, slender yet strong. He had white blond hair and sapphire blue eyes. He was gentle and kind, and became the young man's first lover. They were together for two years before Caius left him. It was a week before they graduated. Caius came to him and stated that he loved the young man, but he couldn't continue to share him with 'his freaky email buddy'. Caius claimed his watcher was in fact a sick and twisted stalker. The young man was incensed and demanded that Caius leave his apartment and never come back.

The young man sat, staring at the pictures of the moon that watcher had sent. He thought about his watcher and their relationship. The young man slowly realized he was, in fact, in love with his watcher. Rather than feeling scared by this epiphany, he embraced it. He was so giddy, in fact, that he called Angela and told her. She laughed at his glee, and congratulated him for finally realizing what she and Mike had known for the past three years.

He broke tradition and emailed his watcher that night, a Friday night.

'I know now. I'm ready. I'm sorry it took me so long. I'll be at the cliffs in two weeks. Please, tell me you'll meet me there. Please, tell me we can finally meet face to face. I need to see you when I tell you for the first time.'

He sent the email and waited. He wasn't expecting a reply that night, but that's exactly what he got.

'Of course I'll be there. I want to see you too, and to watch you as I say the words for the first time too. Be safe, and know, you are not alone. Never again.'

Time seemed to slow to a crawl, now that he knew he'd be seeing his watcher, his love. Graduation came and went. His grandmother was there, the only family he had. His parents had never contacted him after he left four long years ago. His sister and 'friends' called or texted him a few times the first year. Always criticizing him or blaming him for their failings. He never responded, and eventually they gave up.

He flew back to Washington with his grandmother. During the flight he told her all about his watcher, and admitted that he had fallen in love. He told her of their plans to finally meet the next week. His grandmother laughed and told him it was about time. She said she had faith that he would be pleased when he met 'his love'.

It was the day of the full moon, shortly before sunset. The young man was sitting on the cliffs. He had brought a tent, sleeping bags and food. He had gathered wood and had it ready to start a fire once the sun had set. He was nervous, more nervous than he could ever recall being before. He watched the sun set over the water and waited for the moon to rise. He sat, and waited. The peace he had always felt sitting on the cliffs seemed to elude him, until the eagle swooped by. She arced and turned, circling above him, her cry rising above the crash of the waves. He acknowledged her with a smile and a wave. She flew off, disappearing in to the darkness of the forest, just as the moon broke through the clouds.

The young man sensed his watchers approach. There was no sound to alert him, he just somehow knew. He stood, and turned towards the woods. The moon light was obscured by clouds just as his watcher stepped out of the trees. They walked towards each other, meeting in front of the tent.

The clouds broke and bright moonlight illuminated the cliffs. The young man finally saw the face of his watcher. "Paul? You? It's been you all along?"

His watcher stepped forward, and placing a gentle hand on the young mans face, said, "Yes, Jasper. It's been me all along."

Jasper closed his eyes for just a moment. He was trying to calm his racing heart and collect his thoughts. He opened his eyes, and in a strong and clear voice stated, "I love you, Paul."

"I love you too, Jasper."

The young man and his watcher leaned in to one another and kissed. It was a homecoming and a declaration. It was magic, under the light of the full moon, with the eagle soaring above them.


End file.
